


guts

by skiesaflame



Series: here, there, and nowhere [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 02:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20770697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiesaflame/pseuds/skiesaflame
Summary: Cú and Enkidu duel. The odds are not in Cú’s favour.





	guts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azureii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureii/gifts).

> Thanks for requesting!

Cú has always prided himself on his quick reflexes. Many of his victories were not won as a result of brute strength, but rather a result of his ability to strike first. This does not apply to fighting Enkidu. 

They’re fast, perhaps even faster than him. He barely has time to fit in any blows of his own in between evading their chains of rapid attacks. Enkidu is undeniably a tough opponent. It excites him. 

It’s easy to get swept up in the rush of battle, even easier yet to find enjoyment in the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the hammering of his heartbeat. Fighting is as natural to him as breathing, and his Gáe Bolg is comfortable in his grip, warm in the heat of battle and familiarly slick with the sweat of his calloused palms. Cú does not back away in the face of adversity. No, he welcomes it. It’s in the harshest of conditions that he truly thrives. 

Enkidu does not respond to his mocking jibes, their face remaining blank, almost cold, throughout it all. Normally, Cú might be inclined to call them no fun, but they move so unpredictably, yet fluidly, that Cú cannot help but respect them. It’s a pity they’re so attached to the golden prick. He’d jump at the chance to see how they act when plied with alcohol, but the chance of running into the pompous archer puts a damper on things. 

They’re evenly matched, Cú dodging and blocking all Enkidu gives, and then they aren’t. Enkidu releases an attack powerful enough that Cú cannot evade all of its impact. The force of it bruises his side, possibly cracks a rib, but it’s nothing Cú can’t get over, nothing he hasn’t already lived through. No, it’s not the injury that cripples him. It’s the paralysis that freezes his body and renders his limbs useless. He feels icy dread settle in the pit of his stomach. He recognises the sensation of his nerves stunned to a point of immobility from his days of training with Scáthach as a boy. The feeling of utter vulnerability is no more welcome now than it was then. Cú died fighting with all he had, pushing his body to its limit to the very end, but there’s no limit to push when his body doesn’t recognise any of his mind’s commands, only a stoney fate to await. It’s all that he can do to bare his teeth and snarl, and even that takes all he has.

Enkidu almost looks impressed. “It’s a pity,” they say, voice too soft for a being so cold, “that a man so brash and irrationally stubborn that there’s no doubt that he is human still has a god’s blood flowing through his veins.” They deliver a final blow, swift enough that it might be mistaken as merciful. 

Cú’s body falls limp. A moment passes, and then he grins through the blood and the pain. He staggers back upright, Gáe Bolg ever faithfully in hand. There’s a flash, and then a bewildered Enkidu is looking down at the spear protruding from their chest, piercing an unbeating heart. They slump to the ground. 

Few of Cú’s victories are won through brute strength, many because of his quick reflexes, and most because if there is anything he knows how to do, it’s to stand back up, again and again, regardless of how battered he is. Battered, but never quite broken.


End file.
